Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (88 page)

They had angled their travel northwest soon after coming through the mountain pass, Borrik assuring them he knew where they were, and as such this direction would get them home sooner. It was the twelfth day, late in the evening, when they happened upon a small town one of the werewolves knew to be Traiven. Gathering what coin he could from his troops, which did not amount to much, Seth and Sara entered the town alone as the last rays of the sun were obscured by the horizon. Locating an inn, they went in for a well-deserved meal while the troops hunted for their own food.

As they entered the small inn, all eyes in the room turned to see the newcomers, and foreboding as the pair looked in their armor, all were quick to return their eyes back where they belonged. Taking a seat in the corner with a view of the room, Seth and Sara each placed their helms upon the table waiting to be served. A few moments passed and Seth and Sara eavesdropped upon the other people in the inn to see if they might learn of any news that would interest them. However, the only thing they heard was a pair of elderly gentlemen at the bar attempting to argue while whispering, but such were their elderly ears that each of them whispered entirely too loudly to avoid being overheard.

"I tell you Pete that’s them that disappeared at the battle," said the nearest man.

"It can't be them, everyone says they died in a big explosion that ended the battle, Mack. Everyone knows that," whispered Pete in reply.

"It has to be them. Did you get a look at his helm?" Mack asked. "It's in the shape of a wolf head just like they say."

"Yeah I seen it, but with all the stories there are gonna be those who copy the mage. After all, they say he is the one who ended the battle. If it weren't for him we'd all be goblin food," Pete laughed, the skin sagging from his jowls bouncing with the sound.

With that the old codgers went about sipping their ale in silence as the barmaid, coming through from the door from the kitchen behind the bar, noticed her new customers and came to take their order. She was a small thing in her mid-teens with sandy hair and freckles. Her curves were just beginning to show and she walked with a sort of awkward stride as all teens do as they come to adulthood. Rounding the bar the girl strode directly to the table seemingly unafraid of the couple clad in their black armor.

"What can I get the two of you?" the girl asked with a genuine smile.

"How about something hot to eat and something cold to wash it down with," Seth replied, happy to have a meal that didn’t consist of picking it off the ground or chasing away birds to eat.

"I think we can arrange that," the girl said with another smile. "And what for the lady?"

"I will be happy with the same, thank you," Sara said, her sweet voice sounding like music to Seth’s ears.

As the barmaid walked away to fill their order, Seth reached across the table and took Sara’s hand.

"It's good to be home, isn't it?" he asked.

"It will be nice to have a hot bath, a warm bed and some rest," Sara replied.

Seth realized then that it had been quite some time since he had been able to look into the amber depths of Sara’s eyes, what with having to keep her blindfolded during the day and only exposing them at night when it was too dark for him to enjoy. Even now, though her eyes had taken on a more reddened hue with the alteration, he found them to be bottomless and he could not wait to get clean and spend some good quality time with her. But with the swift return of the barmaid, Seth realized his desire would have to wait a bit longer.

"That'll be two silver," the young girl said.

Seth pulled the coins from the pouch Borrik had given him, thinking the price rather steep, and the girl took them and pocketed them before placing the tray with their food and drinks upon the table. Sara and Seth ate like animals that night, each devouring a plate of roasted lamb and steamed vegetables, chasing the hot meal down with a large mug of cool ale. They sat relaxing a few minutes after eating, as the barmaid returned from the kitchen and again came to their table.

"Can I get the two of you something else?" she asked.

"Perhaps," Seth replied. "The lady could use a deeply cowled cloak, and though I know the shops in town are probably closed, I wondered if maybe you could arrange to get one for us?"

"Well, you are in luck actually. Ole Mack there at the bar owns the tannery and loom down the road. Let me talk to him for ya." Without awaiting another word she turned and approached the old gentleman at the bar. After speaking to him briefly, he stood and turned, nodding once in Seth and Sara’s direction before he left the inn.

The barmaid then left the room entering the privy at the far side of the room which was becoming a more and more popular commodity at local inns. Sara, excusing herself from the table on noticing the room, went to relieve herself as well. Seth sat quietly alone at his table a moment when the old man named Mack retuned carrying an exquisite cloak with a deep hooded cowl. The fabric was a light but tightly woven wool, dyed black, and around the cowl and trailing down the sides of the cloak was silver embroidery that dressed the garment out nicely. Mack, well into his twilight, got his bearings upon entering the inn once again, and pausing to let his eyes adjust to the light, turned and approached Seth at the table. Seth, remembering to respect his elders, stood to greet the man. Shaking hands at the wrist like old comrades, Seth greeted the man introducing himself, and the old man did likewise, beginning to shake his head when Seth stated his name.

"Are you the same Seth that blasted the enemy to smithereens?" Mack asked.

"One and the same," Seth assured the man.

"Not to seem distrustful you see, but if you can prove it, I'll give you the cloak free of charge," Mack grinned crookedly.

Seth peered around the room to notice that all eyes were upon him and the old man. Knowing he had little coin, and the cloak looked expensive, Seth decided to humor the small crowd.

Raising his arms Seth pointed his palms skyward, and without so much as a word his hands exploded into flame that encompassed his flesh without burning it. Refocusing the energy Seth let the flames extinguish as he turned his palms to face one another, spreading his fingers. Small bolts of wicked green lightning erupted from the fingertips of each hand extending to connect in the space between his hands. But Seth wanted to really give the man his money’s worth, so while distracting him with the miniature lightning, Seth sent tendrils of his power around the room to each table. Unleashing more power Seth created at the end of each invisible tendril an illusion of himself, appearing to the small crowd as if another dozen Seths had appeared out of thin air. The people in the room jumped, each of them startled by the sudden appearance of Seth’s apparitions. Seth vanquished his lightning, allowing the old man to turn to see what had surprised all of his friends so, and with a wide grin, he looked back to Seth trembling in excitement and handed over the cloak. Seth let his illusions stand a moment longer, and as an added bonus he made them each stroll across the room where they came to rejoin with the real Seth, each one appearing to become consumed within him. As the last illusion vanished Seth released a small concussive boom that reverberated off the walls.

"Well done, Lord Seth, well done!" Mack said clapping his hands. "I have heard it said that you worship the Goddess Ishanya, and that you can change people into beasts and monsters. Are those tales also true?" Mack asked in wonder.

"It is indeed the goddess Ishanya who gave me my power, and I have used my abilities to make men more than they originally were. Without them we would not have succeeded in defeating the black horde," Seth replied.

The old man, and many others in the room, nodded their heads in silent understanding as Mack again took Seth’s hand and shook it heartily. Seth watched the old man turn as Sara reappeared from the privy, and watched as he returned to the bar to brag to his old drinking buddy.

"Told you so," Mack said and took a deep draught of his ale.

Taking Sara’s hand in his own the couple returned to the night, but not before Seth thanked the people for their hospitality.

* * * * *

Sara walked into the privy cautious of her footfalls. The young barmaid stood across the small room with her back to Sara, rinsing her hands with a small pitcher of water, having already relieved herself. Having caught the girl's scent upon entering the inn, it was nearly all Sara could do to ignore it while eating her meal with Seth. No matter how Sara tried to focus upon something else, each and every attempt failed as her thoughts came back to the girl and she sniffed to taste the air again and again. Here in the small privy the blossoming girl's scent was stronger still, and Sara thrilled with the taste of blood that mingled with it. Had the girl not been on her cycle this day Sara probably would have ignored her, but the scent of the blood upon her was overwhelming and Sara’s thirst needed to be satiated. It was a feeling akin to the need to breathe when under water. It wasn't a want, it was a necessity.

Creeping across the room, careful to make no noise, Sara came to stand directly behind the young girl. Reaching up with one hand, cautious of underestimating her newfound strength, Sara in one swoop grasped the back of the woman's head and drove it into the stone wall with a crack. As the girl slumped, Sara wrapped an arm around her chest, under her arms, keeping her upright. With fresh blood now dripping from the young girl’s forehead Sara was intoxicated with the scent. She pulled the girl’s head to the side with her free hand and drove her teeth into the soft flesh of the girl’s throat. Suckling like a babe as the blood spilled from tiny puncture wounds in the girls throat Sara drank thirstily, caught up in the exhilarating moment. It was not until she felt the floor shake as a boom erupted within the building that Sara snapped out of her thirst for blood, and quickly worked to hide her crime. Dragging one of her fingernails roughly across the girl’s neck she created a shallow scratch that connected the two small puncture wounds, camouflaging their true nature. Then Sara lowered the girl to the floor and stood again, using her hands and the water provided to wipe her face clean. She employed the small pitcher to rinse the small splatter of blood from the stone wall where the girl's head had struck it, and carefully, using her newly acquired strength, snapped the handle from the pitcher and slid it beneath the girls neck, before placing the larger portion of the pitcher upon its side, also on the floor, letting the remaining water in it pour out to form a puddle. Sara checked the girl before leaving the room to reassure herself the girl still breathed. Confident the child would live, Sara strode from the room as if nothing had ever happened.

* * * * *

Seth and Sara left the small town walking west once again, and as they walked, Seth helped Sara don her new cloak, that Seth felt would be adequate to hide her face and hands during sunlight hours. As they left the town they followed the road, where an hour later they were rejoined by Borrik and his men. The remainder of the night and the next morning they continued to walk without incident, all of them talking and jesting freely as Seth’s thoughts kept returning to the quickly approaching reunion with his foster brother. Seth hoped beyond hope that Garret did not blame him for the death of the king and so many others that were lost in the final blast. He knew there would only be one way to ever find out for sure.

* * * * *

Garret awoke in the morning feeling more refreshed than he could ever recall, and much to his surprise Linaya sat upon the edge of his bed watching him sleep, waiting for the moment he would wake.

"I was just about to wake you," Linaya said.

"Am I running late again?" Garret asked, his constant tardiness becoming his biggest fault.

"Nope, and that is exactly why I came," she replied. "I wanted you to be prepared well before the ceremony."

"That is very thoughtful of you, Linaya, thank you," Garret replied.

"Since you dress for me..." Linaya began smiling, "I took the liberty of picking out something for you to wear today that I think you will look absolutely astonishing in."

"Is that so?" Garret asked. "Well, let’s see it then."

Linaya walked across the room and picked up some clothes she had placed out upon one of the large stuffed sofas. Holding the outfit up to admire it herself, she then returned, bringing the garments with her. Garret looked over the outfit and saw no immediate issues in wearing it. Though the clothes had belonged to the previous king, they had been near equal in size and so Garret believed they should fit him well enough. Garret rose from his bed throwing back the covers and was surprised as Linaya turned her back to let him dress. The outfit was simple enough to not look entirely too formal, yet elegant enough for the occasion, Garret supposed. It was no more than some trousers with a shirt and vest, with moderate embroidery, and a thick belt to wrap around his waist. Garret dressed quickly then walked with Linaya to inspect himself in the mirror where the night before Linaya had kissed him upon the chest. Garret looked himself over and deemed the outfit suitable, though a bit snug in the chest and arms, which is why he assumed that Linaya had chosen it. It did show off the better traits of his body, however, and he supposed that was the garment’s purpose.

Walking together, Garret and Linaya strode through the castle greeting the many guests who had come for his crowning ceremony, and stopped occasionally to share a few words with members of Garret’s council. Many complimented Garret on his appearance, and Garret accepted the compliments graciously. Though Garret did notice several men, both those he knew and some he did not, eyeing the beauty at his side, he ignored the stares as did Linaya for the sake of the day's purpose.